


Chris' Disney Princess

by avaalons



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-11-30 10:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11461665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avaalons/pseuds/avaalons
Summary: In this, you are an actress, most recently famous for starring as a princess in a new live action Disney film, and Chris has a huge crush on you.After completely embarrassing himself in front of you in public, the two of you wind up working together and Chris uses his opportunity to win you over.





	1. Obsession

_So I heard you recently embarrassed yourself massively in front of <y/n>?_

Chris runs his hand over his beard, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks as he lets out a wry chuckle, ‘Yeah, just a little bit.’

_Do you want to elaborate for us? The interviewer presses on._

‘Really? Well… so it was at the Oscars, on the red carpet. I was just working my way up the press line, doing the little interviews and stuff, and then I hear, you know, an increase in the excitement in the crowd. When I turn around to see who’s arrived, it’s actual fucking Sleeping Beauty and I mean, she’s stunning right? So she’s gliding past and just as she comes past me, I actually just stick out my hand - bearing in mind this is the first time we’ve ever met - and I’m all ‘I loved you in Sleeping Beauty, you were so great,’ and I’m stumbling over my words like a teenager asking a girl out for the first time. In my head I’m giving myself a serious pep talk like _‘C'mon Chris get it together, you got this’,_ and she just gets this puzzled look on her face as she really tentatively shakes my outstretched hand and goes, ‘Yeah, even I’m proud of how well I can sleep on camera.’

Chris rests his head in his hands, shaking it from side to side as if he still can’t believe what he said, 'And it suddenly dawned on me that she wasn’t even really at the Oscars for Sleeping Beauty… because she literally spent ninety five per cent of the movie fast asleep! Why couldn’t I have just plucked any one of her other movies from the air? Why did I have to go straight in with Disney geek?’

By this time, the interviewer is laughing along as Chris moans in shame. 

_So is it safe to say you missed your chance?_

'Yeah, I’d say that was a dead cert. Unless, of course, she happens to have a thing for Disney geeks. In which case,’ and he looks directly into the camera, holding his thumb and pinky against his head like he’s on the phone, 'give me a call, I’d be happy to show you how good not sleeping can be.’

His face drops as he sees the bemused look on the interviewer’s face and realises the implication behind what he just said. He throws his hands up in the air in defeat, 'Oh man, I didn’t mean… Ah fuck it, if my chance hadn’t gone before, it definitely has now!’


	2. Reality

_So, I’ve got to ask, how has working together been since Chris’ epic humiliation after the Oscars?_

‘Really dude? We’re really going to go here again?’ Flushed pink tinged Chris cheeks as he barked out an embarrassed laugh. It had taken weeks and weeks of hardcore charm offensive from him for you to drop your guard around him after his put his foot and most of his leg in his mouth when he met you on the press line at the Academy Awards, and then again when he was asked about you in an interview. And now in every interview on this fucking press tour, his massive blunder was brought up time after time. 

You’d been polite of course, from the moment you met him. You’d taken a deep breath, pushed your shoulders back and, when he walked into the room for your introduction, you stuck out your hand _politely_ and addressed him as Mr Evans. You were going to be working together for the best part of the next twelve months and you wanted to set very clear boundaries from the start. His bright expression had fallen a fraction but he had recovered quickly, shook your hand warmly, closing his free hand over yours, sandwiching your dainty fingers between his palms. 

‘Please, its Chris,’ he’d said, ‘And I just wanted to say that I am beyond sorry for…’

‘Oh, don’t worry about it! I found it funny, honestly. Nothing to worry about.’ 

You’d cut him off quickly with a smile and a wave of your hand, your other one still snug in his fingers. You absolutely did not want to listen to an apology for his comments. You hadn’t been offended when you heard about it. You’d been flattered even! He seemed like a nice guy, friendly and open, and that was difficult to come by in your line of work. But this movie was a huge win for you and you would be doing everything in your power to ensure your time on the movie was a success. And that meant keeping Chris Evans, his blue eyes, dazzling smile and warm hands at arm’s length and then some. Right after he let you go. Any second now. 

He did, eventually, after a few more absent-minded gentle shakes and a slightly awkward silence, let you go with an ‘okay then,’ and a ‘let’s get started shall we?’ 

And it had been fine, really. The cast were close and you were made to feel nothing but welcome. After a few weeks, you couldn’t help but defrost a little bit, swept up as you were in the easy atmosphere and natural banter that flowed between them all. You and Chris had found an easy rhythm and, dare you say it, had developed something resembling a friendship. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but that was fine by you. It was safe and you weren’t doing anything to make anyone question your professionalism. 

But these interviews were getting on your last nerve. You felt for Chris, he was the one getting the brunt of the humiliation of course, but he bore it well. He laughed it off every time, talked about how professional you both were and how you had graciously accepted his apology. A couple of times, he’d even offered you a fist bump as a show of camaraderie and to make it clear to anyone watching that his verbal eruption had resulted in only friendship. 

You were irritated though. There were six other cast members on this particular interview and it must have been annoying for them as well. This must have been the seventh or eighth time this question had come up and it really had nothing to do with anything. So you brightened your smile, leaned forward on to rest your chin on your curled fingers coquettishly and turned your attention to the interviewer. 

‘Working together has been brilliant! He’s a funny, intelligent, very sensitive guy, not to mention he’s fairly easy on the eye right?’ At this, you held out your palms and gave a exaggerated wink to the camera for good measure, 'I mean, what girl on this planet wouldn’t be beside themselves if they heard the Chris Evans talking about her like that? And, as it turned out, it was a great ice breaker when we officially met for work for the first time.’

A chiming laugh and an affectionate light punch against Chris’ shoulder completed your scene perfectly and everyone in the room laughed along with you. Once you knew you had the interviewer and other press people on side, you cast a subtle glance in Chris’ direction and he gave you an equally subtle smile. He appreciated the intervention and the interview could move on.

_Okay, next question. So, let’s talk everyone’s favourite subject - Disney. We’re all familiar with Disney parks right? So what’s your favourite Disney theme park ride?_

You waited patiently as your fellow cast mates answered, sometimes debating, or bringing a lesser known or forgotten ride to mind. You stayed quiet until Chris turned to you. 

'And what about you, what’s your favourite ride?’ 

You stalled slightly, unsure of the best way to respond without starting a pity party.

'Unbelievable I know but I’ve actually never been to Disney! So, honestly, I wouldn’t know.’

Chris’ mouth dropped open, 'What?! You were a Disney Princess! How can you have never been to Disney? Were you born an adult and skipped being a kid altogether.’

'Oh, you know, we just lived a long way from a park and… we just didn’t manage to get to one,’ you shrugged like it was no big deal, wishing the questions would move on.

Chris placed a hand against his chest dramatically, pretending to be speechless as he drew laughs from everyone in the room. You laughed along too.

'Really Chris? It’s not a thing. Lots of people have never been to Disney.’ 

'We’re going. You. Me. Hardcore Disney park visiting. I’m gonna get you some Mickey Mouse ears and make you go on every ride, make you queue up for photos with characters, eat in every country’s restaurant in Epcot. It’s going to be amazing.’

Everyone continued to laugh at his enthusiasm and ridiculousness and he placed his hand on your shoulder, almost as if making a deal. You thought he might have noticed your discomfort because he moved the interview on pretty quickly after that, keeping the attention on him and away from you. 

Eventually, the day came to an end and you could all retire back to your hotels to freshen up before dinner. As you were striding through the halls, you heard a voice behind you.

'Hey, wait up!’

You span around to see Chris approaching you with a light jog.

'Everything okay?’ You paused your walk and waited rfor him.

'That thing about Disney before. Why have you never been? Really?’

You shrugged, 'There’s no big mystery here Chris, my family just couldn’t afford it. I have loads of siblings and there’s no away my parents could have got us all there. I used to watch the tv ads but I got over it. Grew out of it.’

Chris was quiet for a beat and he leaned against the wall with his shoulder, tucking one foot behind the other. You wondered if you’d made him uncomfortable. You had reached a level of friendliness but you weren’t really at the sharing stage. 

Eventually though, he found his words, 'You don’t ever grow out of Disney, I promise. I already spoke to my mom. You are officially invited on the trip.’

That really threw you, 'Chris! I can’t go on your family trip! It’s a family trip for a reason.’ 

You’d met some of his family members briefly during shooting when they would visit but you’d had certainly not spent enough time with them to be invited on their annual trip.

'Unfortunately, now the whole of the clan know that you have never experienced the wonder of Disney, they won’t let me go without you sooooo… if you don’t go, I don’t get to go either. And that would really break my heart,’ there was that easy smile. You needed to be careful. 

'Chris… this is too much. What will people think? It’s not like we can wander around under cover. You’re not exactly inconspicuous.’ 

Chris just laughed, 'Sweetheart, if I cared what people thought, I’d never open my damn mouth, as well we both know. So, of course I’m not going to kidnap you and throw you on a plane, but I really do think you should experience Disney at least once in your life, and you may as well do it with a bunch of people that are shameless Disney nerds. So, if you’re not doing anything over the holidays, you should come with us. My mom likes having a lot of people around. When I’m a good boy, I get to take a friend.’

His grin was infectious.

You stalled, trying to decide. You felt like you were on the edge of cliff and one good shove was going to send you plummeting. This was everything you said you wouldn’t do. More than you said you wouldn’t do, in fact. Much more. This would force this professional friendship you had into something resembling a real, outside-of-work relationship. Platonic, of course.

'Don’t take this the wrong way but… this is definitely a friend thing, right?’ You had to maintain some semblance of boundary.

He cocked his head on one side, curiosity etched into his features, 'Of course, unless you…’

He raised an eyebrow and used his index finger to gesture between the two of you. 

You instantly wished you hadn’t said anything and as a result, was too hasty in your response, 'What?! No. No! Of course not. No way. Just friends.’

That stupid, curious grin was still dancing on his lips, 'Just friends, right. But this means you’ll come with us, yes? I assume that there’s no reason for you to refuse since we’ve established that we are _just_ friends.’ 

You’d been backed into a corner, you’d realised. Now, if you refused, it would seem like it was because you had feelings for him or something. 

'Yeah. Yes. Okay, that would be really great. Thank you. For inviting me. And thank your mom too. Just let me know when I need to be there and I’ll sort my air travel and hotels and… stuff.’  
  
'Amazing. Best news I’ve had all day! I’ll go message the family group now. Don’t worry about the logistics, you’ll be staying with us anyway. We get a villa. I’ll email you the details,’ he shifted from the wall and made to walk in the direction of his own room, 'I’m excited! I love it when I’m with someone who’s seeing it for the first time.’

'Even when said person is almost 30?’

'Especially then,’ he gave you a slight wink before starting to walk away, one hand tucked in the pocket of his jeans. After a few paces he called out over his shoulder, 'Check your emails in a little while.’

'O-Okay,’ you called back. You still weren’t quite sure what you had agreed to, but there was a smile on your face and your steps felt lighter as you walked back to your room. 

And if you did check and refresh your emails every five minutes for the rest of the night, you didn’t beat yourself up about it.


	3. The Trip

Disney on its own was pretty mesmerising. Disney with Chris’ family was… magical. It took you a few days to really embrace their closeness, having not really experienced it before, despite your many siblings. All the members of your family were perfect individuals, islands dotted all over the world, but Chris’ family were a complete unit and it was clear to see every single day.

You’d been even a little overwhelmed at first when you had arrived at the villa. True to his word, Chris had organised everything perfectly around your schedule. The family had arrived at their villa a day earlier but you’d had some meetings to attend so had caught a flight the day after. 

Chris had picked you up at the airport, his demeanour so casual and open, sunglasses and a bright smile adorning his face, it was as if this was a total everyday occurrence, as if he always picked you up from the airport and drove you to see his family. 

You had chatted easily in the car and he shared some of the plans for the rest of the evening and the following days. He gave you another run down of the names of his family members and shared some stories about his niece and nephews and their excitement on their first day back in Disney. It was all too easy to believe that you’d had known Chris for years, that you had a place among his family. For the first, but definitely not the last, time, you sharply reminded yourself to avoid entertaining any thoughts about Chris and yourself other than what theme park ride you’d be going on next. 

Upon meeting his family, however, you were instantly welcomed by them all, as if you’d always been on vacation with them. They had been in the middle of preparing a big family dinner when you and Chris had arrived. Lisa, Chris’ mom, was managing things in the kitchen, giving her sons and daughters jobs to do while Chris’ nephews laid the table in between chasing each other around it. Lisa had wiped her hands with a cloth before pulling you into a hug. You’d been unable to keep the repeated tokens of thanks from spilling over but Lisa wouldn’t hear it, simply telling you how glad she was that you were there and how excited they all were to be able to show Disney off to you. 

‘Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes or so. Chris, take her cases and show her to her room will you, give her some time to unpack before dinner. Was your flight okay?’ she said, turning her attention back to you at the end.

‘Yes, thank you. Someone,’ you gave Chris a side glance, ‘booked me into first class without me knowing.’

Chris simply smiled and shrugged, ‘You’re a Hollywood hotshot now, first class is something you’ll want to get used to on flights unless you want photos of you asleep and drooling on your own shoulder all over the internet.’

Lisa laughed, 'I’d expect nothing less of him anyway, nothing gets done by halves with this one. Go on, go and relax for a few before you have the face the craziness of dinner time with this rabble.’

Chris led you down a hallway off the main living area, pulling your case after him, pointing out who the rooms belonged to as you went. All the doors had an A4 paper name plate, clearly drawn by the younger members of the family, with little crayon pictures of the room’s owner alongside other associated images. 

'We’re down here - I mean, my room is here, if you need anything,’ he pointed out his door, adorned with his name, his crayon replica (complete with fairly dense beard you noted) and a picture of a dog.

'Dodger?’ you asked, gesturing towards the door.

Chris smiled affectionately, 'Yeah, the kids decided our doors needed to be personalised this year. Let’s just be grateful it was on paper and not straight on to the woodwork. This is your room.’

To your surprise, you also had a name card, with your own crayon avatar. You wondered if Chris had shown the kids a photo of you. The rest of the space was filled with flowers, trees and birds. You reminded yourself to thank the children later.

Chris opened the door and flicked the light switch, 'So here you go, home sweet home for the next week.’ 

It was a light and spacious room with a large window on the opposite wall, a double bed that looked incredibly comfortable flanked by two night stands, and a dressing table and chair. There were two other doors, you assumed for an ensuite bathroom and a walk in closet. Someone had left fresh flowers on your dressing table and there were some books in a pile on one of the night stands. 

'It’s lovely, thanks. It’s a really nice place.’

'Don’t worry that we’ll be offended if you want to spend time in here by the way. We totally understand that sometimes it’s a bit much being around us all 24/7. Don’t be afraid to take some time for yourself. Same for the days out - if you want to lounge by the pool or go off and do your own thing, just say so.’

You really appreciated that, and it reminded you that you had actually become good friends during your time working, probably better than you had initially given Chris credit for. He was clearly quite attuned to your temperament. 

'Thanks, that’s really - I wouldn’t have wanted to seem rude. It’s just… this is so different to what I’m used to,’ you gestured vaguely back down the hallway you’d just come from.

Chris simply grinned, 'I know, I don’t think many people could prepare for this madness. But seriously, no one will think you are rude at all. I left you some books you might like to read and there’s a concealed flatscreen in the foot of the bed so feel free to make the most of it. I’ll give you a shout when dinner’s done.’

He made to leave and you called out to him just as his body had disappeared past the door frame. He popped his head back in question and you wished you hadn’t called him. Suddenly, what you wanted to say seemed so… lame. 

'Just wanted to say thanks. For this. My own family never does things like this and… thank you for making me part of it.’

'My pleasure,’ he smiled warmly at you, before leaving you to unpack. 

***

Chris walked back to the main living area in the villa, unable to stop his smile creeping over his mouth. His mom glanced over her shoulder at him from where she was preparing a salad in the kitchen and called him over.

'Can you chop these peppers for me, sweetheart?’ she said, gesturing to the brightly coloured bell peppers on the counter.

Chris picked up a knife and began slicing the top off one.

'She seems lovely,’ Lisa attempted to sound off hand and casual. 

'Mom…’ Chris had a hint of warning in his voice, knowing his mom and her line of questioning too well.

'I’m just saying!’ Lisa pretended to be defensive, 'She seems like a lovely girl.’

There was a pause as they both prepared salad, the only sounds of knives hitting the chopping boards as they sliced and diced.

'Just, maybe take it slow wi-’

'Mom! Seriously! We’re friends, I told you this.’

'Christopher, you haven’t brought a 'friend’ to Disney since you were thirteen years old and you definitely didn’t leave flowers in their room. I’m just saying, be careful with her. If you use your usual tactic of getting all your feelings out there in one go, she’ll bolt. Try to reign in the excitable puppy side of your personality.’

'You literally just met her, how can you possibly know that?’

'Because she couldn’t be any different from the usual Hollywood set if she tried. She’s guarded and quiet. Don’t freak her out.’

'Okay, okay, I get it. I’ve been doing that anyway. We honestly are friends though and if that’s what she’s comfortable with, then that’s what we’ll be.’

***

You didn’t know whether it was Disney, or Chris’ family, or a combination of the two but by the end of the week, you’d never felt less awkward, less shy and less like yourself. You’d done it all: the rides, the shows, the character photos and you were now the proud owner of three different sets of mouse ears, and if you’d also purchased some incredibly sentimental Christmas tree ornaments of your favourite childhood characters to take back home with you, it was no big deal. 

You’d loved everything and you had been pulled into the family with ease. Your phone was full of photos documenting all your activities and you’d shared them with the family in their group chat. At the Magic Kingdom, Chris had snatched your phone from you - 'there needs to be some pictures of you on here too!’ - and had kept hold of it for a few hours. 

When you got it back and were scrolling through later on that night as you were tucked up in bed, you noticed just how carefree and happy and confident you looked. There were a couple of mouse ear selfies that Chris had made you take with him that made you laugh when you saw the faces he was pulling. 

Tomorrow was going to be the last full day and you found you were disappointed. The time had gone so quickly. You laid your phone on the nightstand, plugging the charger in and watching as the screen brightened before darkening to the black sleep screen. You were going to miss this break from your life. You didn’t know if you’d escaped being recognised entirely - there might be a few candid cellphone shots of you floating around now - but you hadn’t been approached by anyone. Chris had a couple of times but it was nothing too intrusive and he was happy to oblige a few kids. 

You’d have to go back to LA the day after tomorrow and this would all just become a memory to treasure. You were going to miss it, that much was certain. You thought about the photos Chris had taken on your phone: you were going to miss who you were around this family. You were going to miss Chris and you didn’t know what to do with that thought. 

Kicking back your sheets in mild frustration, you rose from your bed and padded across the carpet to the door, trying with all the daintiness you possessed to open the door quietly. Tiptoeing through the villa, you headed to the sliding patio doors leading out to the pool. Settling into one of the loungers, you listened to the silence of the night and tried not to think about how alone you were going to feel after tomorrow. 

***

Chris lay awake in his bed, thinking about you doing the same thing in the room next door. This week had been perfect. He’d loved seeing you loosen up and let go of some of those rules and boundaries you so clearly imposed on yourself most of the time. You’d fit right in: the kids included you in their games, you joined in with conversation over dinner like you’d always been there, and today you’d happily stood with everyone, smiling, when Carly had asked an attendant to take a picture of you all in front of the castle. 

But he wasn’t used to being so… subtle. This was not his normal approach at all when he liked someone. He’d taken, what felt like to him, so many steps backwards away from this situation in order to not do anything to freak you out, he felt like things were moving in the exact opposite direction to the one he wanted. So today, he had gotten a little snap happy with your phone and had taken a chance on taking some selfies. You had both been wearing mouse ears and he pulled you to him, arm around your waist, fingers splayed against your hip, as he’d turned the camera to front facing. He had to admit, you were both fucking adorable. Best of all, you hadn’t backed off, and that was a very good sign. 

His thoughts were disturbed by the quiet sounds of a door opening, the slight reverberation signalling that it was from the room next door. Chris lay still for a couple of seconds, wondering whether to follow you or not. When he didn’t hear anyone else moving around, he decided he would just go and check that you were okay, then head back to his room and give you the space you clearly wanted. That was all.

***

'Hey, everything okay?’

Despite his soft voice, you just about jumped out of your skin, so wrapped up in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard Chris’ footsteps to warn you of his presence. You whipped around to face him, hand pressed against your collar bones as you let out a nervous laugh.

'Chris!’ you half-whispered, 'Don’t sneak up on me like that!’

'Sorry!’ he grinned back at you, 'Want a beer?’

He held up two bottles in his hands. Now that you had calmed down, you were suddenly extremely aware that you’d been thinking pretty deeply about Chris and his presence in your life, and you were more than a little paranoid that it was all over your face. A beer could be just the thing to provide a mask.

'Sure,’ you replied, holding out a hand to take one from him.

'Mind if I sit?’ 

'No, course,’ you gestured to the lounger next to yours.

'Can’t sleep? Me neither.’

'Yeah, I was struggling to drift off. Quite warm tonight, isn’t it?’

'Yeah, a little,’ Chris replied, taking a sip from his bottle. 

A silence settled over you, but it wasn’t awkward. There was some tension maybe, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. 

You knew then that if you told Chris right now that you thought you were developing feelings for him, he’d be all in. He was waiting for you, and had been since the moment he’d first met you on the red carpet. 

You remembered the fall of his expression when you’d shrugged him off with politeness at your pre-filming meeting, you remembered the grateful smile of understanding you had shared when you’d intervened in front of the interviewer, you remembered the grin across his face when you’d insisted that you were just friends at the hotel. And you knew just how easy it would be for the two of you to be an us, if, of course, you didn’t have the whole world watching and if you weren’t an emotional recluse. 

But that last statement wasn’t true, was it? You’d seen the pictures from today. You could let go and be yourself, there was photographic evidence of it. The aloof creature was just a shield you used to protect yourself in a harsh business, and it had worked up to now, but you knew it would take much more than that to protect you if you embarked on a… something… with Chris freaking Evans. 

'Have you enjoyed yourself this week?’ Chris broke the silence, rolling his beer bottle between his palms.

'Oh god, so much. I’ve had the best time, honestly. I can’t thank you all enough for having me. I’m going to have to have you all over for dinner at mine when we’re back in LA,’ you couldn’t quite believe that particular idea had just come out of your mouth as you took another mouthful of beer.

Chris turned his soft, smiling gaze on you, 'You don’t owe us anything at all, it’s been awesome having you around. But that would be really sweet. My mom would take you up on that for sure. I’ll let you know the next time she’s in LA.’ 

There was another moment of silence before you spoke again, 'It’s going to be weird, going back to LA. I’m going to miss all this. My house is going to seem so empty,’ the truth that you were going to miss him most of all was left unspoken.

'I know, it’s an odd transition to make. It’s so easy to fall into Disney life. But you know, I’ll be around. Give me a call if you want to hang out.’

'Guess we’re not just work colleagues anymore, are we?’ You smiled at him around your beer bottle as you sipped again.

He let out a short laugh, 'No, I wouldn’t say so. I’ve forced you to be my friend.’

'I’m glad you did. I needed it.’

'You’ve always been beautiful, but this week, seeing you properly laugh and run around and play with the kids and make fun of me with Scott and just forget having to check yourself for appearance’s sake at every turn, it’s just - you’ve been shining, glowing even.’

'Chris… I-’ you started to speak but didn’t know what you were going to say. He’d called you beautiful. Beautiful.

'Don’t worry, that’s all I’m going to say, I promise,’ his voice was gentle, soft. He treated you so tenderly, had done all week long.

'Thank you,’ you whispered, not quite meeting his eyes.


	4. The Aftermath

It had been one week. One week since you got back from your Disney trip and one week since you had felt honestly and truly excited about something. You’d been out of course, attended some important meetings about future projects, met up with a couple of friends, done the LA lunch thing, been to the gym, and yoga to work off the holiday splurge. You even went to a showbiz party in the city, which wasn’t really your scene but it gave you an opportunity to dress up and it was on your list of suggested events that PR forwarded to Claire, your excellent personal assistant. 

So all in all, it had been a busy week but it just felt… flat. It wasn’t that you’d not even had fun: you always enjoyed meeting your friends and the party had even had it’s entertaining moments, plus you’d got some low key but positive press from it. You didn’t really care for doing the media thing but as PR pointed out, getting your face out there in a positive way was important for keeping you relevant and in the minds of the people you needed to impress, like studios and producers.

But you were missing… something. The kids and their constant bursts of light-hearted, unconscious laughter? Lisa’s awesome cooking? Maybe Scott and his easy teasing? Maybe it was just the feeling of being part of a family in general. You did, somewhat, reluctantly admit to yourself that it there a very distinct possibility that it was the presence of a certain blue-eyed, broad-shouldered, deep-voiced man that you were missing. 

However, as you sat there in soft, brushed cotton shorts and a Beauty and the Beast tshirt (that may or may not have been purchased in the Magic Kingdom) watching Pillow Talk (you loved Doris Day in this), you felt deflated and restless. You couldn’t put your finger on it.

It was a Sunday evening and you were sprawled against the corner section of your L-shape sofa in the comfortable sitting room area of your apartment, being eaten by throw cushions and moving only to grab another slice of pizza from the coffee table. You were in your favourite place, eating your favourite food, watching your favourite film after treating yourself to a bath and a deep hair conditioning mask. You should have been perfectly content and not so long ago, you would have been. 

You checked your phone again and tried not to sigh. Nothing. You refreshed your emails just in case… but still nothing. You’d not heard from Chris at all since you parted ways at the airport. You were destined for LAX and he was flying back to Boston with the rest of his family. Granted, he hadn’t heard from you either but you hadn’t wanted to intrude on his family time and there was also part of you that didn’t want to give him the wrong idea by fishing for attention. You were friends, that was all, and friends could go for weeks, months even, without speaking and then pick right back up like no time had passed. The week you had spent together did mean you’d be in contact all the time. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed in the freeze out. 

Which is why you grabbed your phone the moment it illuminated next to your leg, a tell-tale bubble appearing on the screen. It wasn’t Chris though, obviously. It was the friend you’d met up with for lunch earlier in the week, and her message consisted of a web address followed by a lot of caps lock. When you swiped the bubble to open up the messenger app, you sat up straight with a start and nearly choked on your Diet Coke. 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE DATING CAPTAIN AMERICA?! Do you even realise how freaking JEALOUS of you I am right now? GET IT GIRL!

You jabbed the web link with a quivering finger, heart hammering in your mouth as it loaded, breathing paused as you read.

Well, shit.

***

Chris let himself into his house, cabin bag shouldered wearily, Dodger padding in ahead of him. He’d picked him up from his friend-slash-reliable-dog-sitter’s house right after he landed in LAX. After giving the stack of mail he’d picked up on his way in a cursory glance, he dropped it to the side table in the hall and sloped through to his lounge, dumping his bag as he sank into the sofa, Dodger jumping up next to him and settling next to his human, letting out a long and much needed sigh. 

God, he was tired. He’d had an amazing couple of weeks in Disney and then Boston, and he loved his family beyond anything but it was good to be back in his house, with his dog and a tiny bit of silence, something that wasn’t very often found in his mother’s house. 

So when the unexpected bars of the chorus of He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother by The Hollies pierced the luxurious, beautiful silence he’d only just rediscovered, he couldn’t help scrunching his eyes closed even harder as he pulled his phone from his pocket and answered without looking at the screen and spoke without greeting.

‘Bro, I literally left you at the airport like two hours ago. You missing my sparkling company that much already?’

‘Yeah you wish,’ Scott replied light-heartedly, scoffing, ‘Sparkling, my ass. Have you been on the internet lately?’

‘I just walked in the door and Dodger and I were enjoying our peace and quiet, so no.’

Scott tone turned more serious, 'Well, I’m just sayin’ you might want to check.’

Chris groaned inwardly while leaning over to rifle in his bag for his iPad, 'What is it this time?’

'Just go to pretty much any gossip site you can think of.’

'Figures,’ he replied wryly as he googled a website, hating himself for doing it, 'This better be worth my while. I’m going to have to disinfect my iPad after going on here.’

'You’re not going to like it, but you’re going to want to address it with at least one person I think,’ Scott told him in warning as Chris navigated the search engine and loaded the website he needed.

'Okay, I’m on. What am I looking f - Jesus Christ, what the fuck is this shit?!’ Chris exclaimed, reading the first featured 'story’.

'I told you. You know that thing we had a discussion about, hammered at mom’s kitchen table, where you have to let a wild, nervous thing go free and it will come back if it wants to?’

'I told you then to fuck off too, I seem to remember.’

'Well, you might want to forget that and just call her.’

'Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,’ Chris’ voice was quiet and the words spoken on autopilot as he read the trash in front of him, unable to tear his eyes away although it was all he wanted to do.

'Alright bro. Get to her first,’ Scott spoke like he was sorry he’d had to break the news to you.

The brothers hung up and Chris read the article again, frustration building inside him, jaw clenching, teeth grinding.

'CATCHING A CAPTAIN: CHRIS EVANS SNARED BY HIS CO-STAR.’

The pictures were from a distance and a little grainy but it was clearly him, his arms around you, his head tucked against your shoulder, mouse ears on your head, as he stretched his arms out to take selfies on your phone. 

_Fuck._

***


	5. The Ugly Truth

You tried to stay calm, frozen to the spot as you were. Nothing moved except your fingers, typing and tapping and revealing article upon article of gossip surrounding you and Chris. 

You felt genuinely nauseated: the pictures from Disney captioned with all kinds that just cheapened the whole moment that had really been happening; the body language ‘experts’ pulling up press photos from the premieres and ‘analysing’ them; pictures of you in a line with a long list of ex-girlfriends, comparing your merits to each. But it didn’t matter what angle the gossip-mongerers went for: one clear implication linked them all. You were a gold digger, a social climber, a small time actress intent on furthering her career, an opportunist, ingratiating yourself with his family and you were using Chris to get where you wanted to be. 

You sat, flabbergasted, surprised when the tears didn’t immediately start falling, but, you supposed, you were too shocked. This was bad. This undid everything your PR team had tried to achieve in the past few months. They’d worked so hard for you and now you’d ruined it because you just couldn’t resist going on a fucking holiday with Chris Fucking Evans. _Why couldn’t you have just said no?_ It didn’t matter that there was actually no story there, a picture spoke a thousand words and these gossip sites had several. 

And you were embarrassed that Chris would now be having to deal with this too. You knew that he liked you, at least in some capacity, but this ‘reporting’ must make things uncomfortable. It assumed things that hadn’t happened, feelings that hadn’t been acknowledged, created a whole story where there wasn’t one and, you had to admit to yourself, you were afraid that this would push him in the opposite direction. That the friendship you had formed would disappear completely while he rode out the storm and let the story die down. 

So caught up in your thoughts and what ifs and scenarios as you were, when the buzzer rang to alert you that someone wanted to be let into your building, you jumped and blinked, processing that you needed to move and then doing so, leaving your phone on the sofa.

You pressed the button to accept the call and saw the subject of all your thoughts on the little screen.

‘Hey, it’s me. Want to let me up?’ His voice was subdued and you knew instantly what he was here for. 

You could barely even respond, nodding though he couldn’t see you, and simply pushed the button to open the downstairs door, waiting nervously for his knock. 

***

Chris had done a couple of things after ending his call with Scott. He’d stupidly googled other versions of the same story, growing angrier with each one, until he’d eventually got on the phone to his PR. 

That conversation hadn’t made him feel much better, if he was honest, and he knew he needed to speak to you. He was mortified. This was all his fault. For some reason, he’d decided that now, at thirty five years old and after decades in the business, that throwing caution to the wind was a good idea. He meant it when he told you he didn’t care what anyone thought, but when he’d said those words, he didn’t think you’d be the one being beaten with the tabloid stick. You had always been so reserved and careful when in the public eye and he’d selfishly persuaded you to let your guard down and now here you were: strung up in a list of his exes, full colour pictures of them all with an obscene Top Trumps style comparison of your pros and cons. He felt sick and, honestly, like he wanted to punch things. But first he needed to think about you.

He hovered his thumb over your contact for a few seconds, your smiling contact picture one of the selfies of the two of you he’d taken on his own phone, before darkening the screen, pocketing it, snapping a lead on Dodger’s collar and grabbing his keys. 

'Come on boy, we’re going to pay a visit.’

***

A furry four-pawed creature exploding through your door the moment there was an inch of space wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. As the dog jumped up to say hello and your hands automatically went to tickle behind his ears in greeting, you looked up to see Chris with a small, sheepish smile on your face and a half-shrug in his shoulders.

'Hi,’ he threw out.

'Hi,’ you replied back, unsure about what else to say. Dodger was still stretched up against you, front paws against your stomach, as he nuzzled into your attentive touch. 

'Is it okay that we’re here? He’s well behaved, I promise.’

You suddenly registered that Chris was still in the hall.

'Yeah, yeah. Of course. Come in,’ you said quickly, trying to make up for your negligence. You stepped back, Dodger dropping to the floor, and created some room to let man and dog in to your apartment. 

You shut the door gently behind them, trying to gather your thoughts before you turned around.

'Do you mind if I let him off the lead? He won’t go on the furniture if I tell him no.’

You took a deep breath, 'It’s fine, honestly. He can go wherever he likes, the sofa’s plenty big enough. Shall I put a bowl of water down for him?’

Chris unclipped his lead and Dodger immediately set about sniffing everything in the room, scoping out his surroundings and gathering information. 

'That would be really great, thanks.’

You were happy to have something to do as you headed to the kitchen area of your open plan living space and retrieved a small metal mixing bowl from a cupboard, filling it with water and placing it down on the laminate flooring. 

Dodger had his nose in it before you even put it down.

'There you go boy,’ you told him quietly, ruffling the short fur on his head as he lapped at the water enthusiastically.

'He’ll be your friend for life after all this attention,’ Chris smiling voice appeared from the other side of the breakfast bar that separated your kitchen and living space. When you looked up, he was leaning against the counter, watching you and Dodger interact. 

'He’s a handsome little guy,’ you complimented.

'Gets more attention than me most days so we’re a good team.’

There was a silence as the real reason for Chris’ visit hung in the air uncomfortably. It was the elephant in the room and you could feel your face burning more and more the longer it went unmentioned. 

'Look-’ you broke the silence.  
'I’m sorry-’ Chris spoke at the same time.

He chuckled lightly, 'Go on, you first. I guess you’ve seen the tabloids.’

You nodded, your expression serious and you could barely look at him, 'I’m sorry to have caused you embarrassment.’

Chris stood up straight at that, no longer leaning casually against your kitchen counter, 'Wait, what do you mean?’

'Well, just that I know that you normally don’t publicise your life too much and now all of this is implying things that haven’t happened. I know how embarrassing it must be to be connected to me in the press like that, especially the way they make it seem like I’ve pulled the wool over your eyes or something,’ you crossed your arms over your body defensively, struggling a little with your words. Part of you wished he’d just called you, but then, it was good to see him, if this would be the last time, 'So I understand if you want to keep your distance and let it all blow over.’

'You think I’m _embarrassed_ to be connected to you?’ Chris’ voice was disbelieving, 'Sweetheart, I came over to apologise! This is all _my_ fault. I put you in this position: it was me that all but forced you on the trip, me that made you take selfies that day, and it’s me that’s been the topic of tabloid trash for a lot longer than you. I should have known better.’

'Chris, there’s nothing to blame yourself for here. I might be a little bit less experienced in the Hollywood whirlwind but I know how it works. We both do. We shouldn’t really be surprised that this has happened, it was bound to. I was naive to think we’d got away with a few kids asking you for a photo. I walked into this completely willingly. I’m just angry at myself that I let it get this far. All that work my PR have done…’

Chris moved around the breakfast bar and towards you, placing his hands around your upper arms and looking earnestly into your face as he spoke, 'Listen, this will blow over. Eventually someone is going to remember all the mistakes I made, all the stupid things I said in relation to you and remember that it’s me that’s done the pursuing while you’ve been nothing but gracious and professional about the whole thing. I’m so sorry for the spin they’ve put on it, you don’t deserve that. Some of it… well, it makes me feel sick.’

'Yeah, the ex-girlfriend line up was a bit of shock,’ you admitted with a wry smile.

Guilt filled his features, 'I don’t even know what to… I’m just so, so sorry.’

He pulled you into a warm, all encompassing embrace and although you’d had his arms around you for the selfies, this was different. You could breathe in his scent and note how easily your head fit under his chin. Your arms were pinned tight between your bodies, your fingers splayed against his chest as his arms circled you. And it felt… right. It made the articles seem less important all of a sudden. _What did they know?_ They had one set of pictures and a whole shed load of speculation, that was it. 

Then something he’d said earlier popped out in your mind and you pulled your head back a little to look up at him, 'Wait, did you say you’d been pursuing me?’

His eyes darted around your eyes, trying to gauge what the best response would be. Your faces were only inches apart and you saw the fractional shift of his gaze towards your mouth before it snapped back up. Your neck and chest felt very warm all of a sudden, heat blooming across your skin. 

'You are my friend, first and foremost, and if that was all you wanted, then that is a boundary I would stick to…’

Your breath caught in your throat. He was too close, this was too much, but at the same time you were euphoric in his arms. He’d pulled your walls down so gently, so kindly, that you’d barely even noticed him wiggling under your skin. His lips were right there, his eyes somehow darker as he gazed at you. This was it: he was going to tell you, going to kiss you, and you weren’t going to do anything to stop it. You were tired of the strain of keeping him away, and after this last week of no contact, you knew that your feelings were running deeper than you had ever intended.

'But…?’ you urged him to carry on in a breathy whisper, sensing there was more.

Your breath hitched as one of his hands travelled to your face, ghosting your cheekbone to tuck your hair behind your ear, 'But if you wanted to explore-’

He was cut off by the sharp ringing on his phone and the moment, and spell, was broken. He cursed under his breath, unwinding one arm from you to pluck his phone from his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he apologised to you.

'Sorry, I’m going to have to take this. It’s Josh and with everything going on…’ he waved his hand by way of explanation and you nodded in reply.

'Yeah, go on, of course,’ you were shocked you’d even managed to find the words. You pulled away and out of his other arm as he answered and fled the kitchen as he began his conversation. 

Retreating hastily to the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror: eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, lips extraordinarily pink. You needed to calm down, get your head together. Quickly splashing your face with cool water, you took a few deep breaths before patting your skin dry with a towel and replacing it on the rail. There was more to think about than your own desires and wants, the rational side of your brain knew that above anything. But there was an increasingly powerful part of you that thought the worst was over. The exact thing you’d been afraid of had already happened, so why not just _give in_? There seemed little point now in keeping him at arm’s length: you may as well at least have all the good stuff everyone clearly thought you were getting, if you were getting the negative stuff anyway. Pushing your shoulders back, you left the bathroom and strode back out to the living area.

Chris was still in the kitchen on the phone and, even though he was speaking quietly, you could hear his end of the conversation, punctuated by silences when, you assumed, Josh was speaking. Your presence had gone unnoticed so you sat in the floor in front of the sofa and played with Dodger.

'Yeah, I know that, I do…. but I don’t want to, Josh. This is different, she’s different… this was my fault don’t forget, she’s done nothing wrong… Josh, you don’t need to tell me that, I already know… yes, of course I fucking do… look, I’m sorry… I just… I’m tired of not being able to live my life.’

***

'You should walk away, dude,’ Josh was telling him. The exact last thing Chris wanted to hear, 'I don’t know her at all but is it really worth it? She seems kinda ice queen to me.’

'She’s different Josh, I’m telling you. This is all my fault.’

'Look, it’s not great at her end, is it? I mean, she’s not been portrayed in the most flattering way. If you carry on, this isn’t going to die down. It could be the most selfish thing you’ve ever done.’

Chris winced at that. Josh was brutally honest and for that he was (mostly) grateful but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t painful to listen to sometimes. 

'I know, I know.’

'I mean, it depends on the both of you obviously. Do you think she could handle all that? Could she handle everything that comes with dating _Chris Evans_? Could her career handle that?’

'I… I don’t know,’ Chris admitted quietly, wishing he did.

'I don’t know what to say to you, man. In your position, well, you’ve got to be sure. I don’t think there’s a choice here, is there?’

Chris’ sigh rankled with defeat, 'I guess not.’

'Just do the right thing, move on and forget any of this ever happened, okay?’

'Right. Thanks man,’ Chris hung up and tapped his phone against his chin in thought. 

There was no way around it, no matter how many scenarios he tried. If he continued pursuing you, or even keeping up with the friendship, you’d have the press hounding you. Everyone would assume the articles were correct and that social climber label would keep on sticking. The other option was to keep it secret, but how long for? He couldn’t guess. There was no guarantee that when you did go public, the same shit wouldn’t be dragged out again. You didn’t deserve that: to not be able to even go outside with someone you were dating, to be holed up in houses just so you could spend together. You deserved someone who proudly walk down the street with you, hand in hand, and not have pictures and speculation ruin your life and your career. And, unfortunately, that guy would never be Chris. Being with him, Chris understood, meant compromise and sacrifices and he just couldn’t do that to you.

He looked up and out over the sitting room and saw you, in your pyjama shorts and Beauty and the Beast tshirt, sat on the floor playing with Dodger, asking him to sit and then creeping your hands across the rug to his paws. He’d jump back and go down in to his play bow, tail and tongue wagging, until eventually he lunged forwards in excitement. Chris started to go and drag him off, thinking that normally people didn’t tend to like having someone else’s dog’s tongue all over their face. Then he heard your laughter as Dodger rubbed his nose across your cheeks and chin. He could picture hearing that laugh so easily in the rooms of his own home, inserting into his life like you’d always been there. He wanted to watch sunsets with you under a blanket, and wake you up with kisses on your face in the morning. He wanted to arrive at his mom’s with you for Christmas and he wanted to travel the world with you so he could meet all of your disparate family members. He wanted to be able to buy you little gifts, just because, and pick you up from the airport with a cheesy but funny name card when you’d been away with work. There was an entire future with you he could envisage, but reality was a cruel mistress and he knew he needed to be the bigger man and walk away. 

He shuffled through, each step heavy with the knowledge of what he was about to do, hands in his pockets, and stood behind the sofa. 

'Sorry about that,’ he told you. 

***

'Don’t worry about it,’ you smiled up at him from the floor, Dodger pawing at you to play with him more, 'What did Josh say?’

He let out a deep breath, 'That I’m being selfish, basically. That clearly, being linked to me will have a negative effect on you. I don’t think I could live with that.’

'Oh, I see,’ disappointment instantly welled in your stomach, all your hopes for what was about to happen dashed. This was it. The 'let’s just let things die down, be seen other people, throw them off the scent’ solution to the problem. The problem that was _you_.

'I’m sorry. You don’t know how much I wish things were different, really. Being 'with me’ in the public eye is, well, it’s shit, quite frankly. There’s so much that press like this could permanently damage for you, and I’m literally the cause of it. I wish beyond anything that it wasn’t like that,’ he was almost pleading. With who, you didn’t know.

You sat quietly, running your hands over Dodger’s belly where he’d lay down and rolled over in front of you. You were so conflicted, left feeling like you had too much to say and not enough, all at once. But really, what was the use? He’d clearly made up his mind, in the exact way that you’d expected before his arrival, and realistically, you knew it was for the best. All of a sudden, you just wanted him gone.

'Okay. So, I’ll see you around?’ You kept your voice and expression neutral, easily done after years of practising keeping your feelings well hidden. You stood up and collected Dodger’s lead from the coffee table, clipping it on to his collar and walking him over to Chris.

'Maybe we can still t-’ Chris began, lamely, but you held up a hand to stop him.

'Chris, if you were about to tell me we can still text, please don’t. I don’t want to be some secret. I’m all for staying under the radar where possible but please don’t insult me like that. I’m an adult, I have adult relationships, where I spend time with people face to face. And that’s not on the cards for us, is it?’

He looked pained. His eyes had a soft, sad expression in them and he held his hand over yours for much longer than was necessary as you passed Dodger’s lead to him.

'Sorry,’ he whispered, 'I guess I better take off.’

You nodded, not trusting yourself with words anymore. This was for the best.

He walked to the door and passed through into the hallway. You stayed on the other side, hand propped against the door frame.

'See you then,’ you said, firmly.

He opened his mouth a few times to speak but eventually decided on just saying, 'Yeah, see you’. 

You closed the door behind him, leant your back against the wood and sank to the floor with a long exhale. Resting your head in your hands, you were frustrated and angry with yourself when you felt tears prick your eyes. You hadn’t been anywhere close to being together, so why did this feel so much like a break up?


	6. Decisions

PR recommended a complete radio silence about the whole situation. To address the reports would be to stir up more speculation, whereas the less that was mentioned about it, the less fuel added to the fire, the quicker it would all slide away.

So that’s what you did and, it seemed, it was what Chris was doing as well. You’d had a few pap opportunities set up for you, so you could be seen out and about alone, attending meetings or going to the gym and pretty soon, the story fell out of the tabloids. You had sneakily Googled Chris a couple of times, a queasy feeling in your stomach, and he’d done similar things: out walking Dodger, meeting friends at a bar downtown, gym sessions, all alone, all perfectly staged. 

You just went about your business as you always had. You needed to focus on your career and what your next move would be off the back of the film you’d done with Chris. The momentum was there, now that the relationship gossip had gone away, and you just needed to act on it. A stack of scripts had been steadily piling up, ones that had been sent to and seen by your agent and then thought to be of interest and passed to you. You weren’t sure what you were looking for in your next project but these scripts seemed to be a good place to start. 

All you truly knew was that you needed to get out of your head and focus on what was important. You’d had no problem with that before Chris Evans had waltzed into your life, and you should have no problem getting back there. Nothing had _actually_ happened after all, there was nothing to be upset about. You hadn’t even kissed for Christ’s sake! But that didn’t stop you imagining _that_ one moment every time you stood in the kitchen, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his mouth a mere two inches from yours as he was about to tell you… well, it didn’t matter now, did it? It was over before it had begun and there was nothing you could do about it. The trip to Disney would always hold a special place in your heart but that was all. So, taking a deep breath, you resolved to move on, starting now. You pulled the first script from the coffee table and opened it up. 

But when, ten minutes later, you found your gaze once again wandering over to the spot in the kitchen where you’d stood against him, waiting for him to just kiss you already, you huffed out a frustrated sigh, flinging the script down on to the seat next to you. 

Wiggling your toes into your flip flops, you located your sunglasses, tossed the scripts and your phone into a satchel bag and headed out into the LA sunshine, locking your door behind you. You needed a neutral place where you could just get him out of your head and your favourite coffee shop might just be the answer.

A coffee, maybe a muffin, and a dark corner were all you needed and soon you were lost in the story being told by one of the scripts. You were really pleasantly surprised by one of the narratives. Given that your resume was various tv spots in the main, plus your break out role in Sleeping Beauty and now your more action-based role in the ensemble drama you’d done with Chris, you’d been sent a whole variety of genres and styles. You hadn’t been type cast so far, and that could be nothing but good news.

The one that piqued your interest was an emotional drama about a couple who had married young and were now, a decade down the line, experiencing problems in their marriage: the husband purposefully choosing to work away more and more while the wife contemplated an affair with a co-worker. But then they find themselves having to take on the care of the husband’s father, suffering with dementia, and move him into their house. Through caring for him, he teaches them a lot about life, love and themselves and they slowly rediscover what they loved about each other and how to make their marriage work, ten years down the line. 

It was desperately bittersweet at the end. You were silently crying by the time you read the last line, tears running tracks down your cheeks as the script came to its conclusion. You’d told yourself that it was just the emotion of the story that brought on the waterworks but you knew deep inside that it had simply tipped you over the edge of an overflowing glass. All of the feelings of frustration, grief, hopelessness, and plain sadness of the last couple of weeks came pouring out of you in the hidden corner of the coffee shop.

You allowed yourself a couple of minutes to wallow before shaking your head and pulling yourself back together. Quickly flipping the document to the front page, you double checked the post it note your agent had left, just to make sure it was the female lead you were being considered for and not the best friend or the sister, when a name caught your eye under the ‘Director’ subtitle and you knew instantly that as much as you loved the story and the complexity of the wife’s character, there was no way you would ever get the role. 

There it was, in clear black ink: _Chris Evans_.

You knew he had a movie lined up and he’d spoken about it occasionally during the Disney trip but you hadn’t put two and two together as you’d opened the first page, only giving the title a cursory glance.

You pulled your phone up to type out a message - he deserved to know how amazing this script was and what a brilliant job you knew he’d do with it - before cancelling and darkening the screen. You didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore. You had no relationship at all, all because he’d decided that he wasn’t worth the risk to your reputation and your career.

But as you sat there, post-cathartic release, and really analysed everything that had happened, everything that had been said in his last visit to you, you realised you’d been duped. You’d been conned out of choosing for yourself, and you might be reserved, you might not let your feelings show very easily or very often, you might avoid things that could hurt you, but that didn’t mean you weren’t capable of making your own decisions just because those decisions involved some risk. 

You couldn’t have the role, not because you didn’t have the talent, but because if you wanted both Chris and some semblance of career, you couldn’t pick up roles on projects he was involved in. If you were going to do this, business needed to be completely separate from pleasure. But you could, you were confident, make it work if you just tried hard enough.

You blinked, feeling positive and empowered for the first time in two weeks. You couldn’t have the role, but it didn’t stop you from going to the audition. 

***

‘Son, I know you’re feeling a bit lost and down but you’ve both made your decisions, right? You’re just going to have to live with it,’ Lisa told him gently.

Not even two weeks after arriving back in LA, Chris was in Boston again, moping around his mom’s house. He’d done what he needed to do regarding being ‘seen’, alone around LA and after four or five ‘appearances’ to make sure he had his photo taken, he was straight on a plane back to Boston. He’d expected to feel lighter when he arrived but no such luck. He knew he was being pathetic but he just couldn’t shake the resentment he held towards… everything. 

'I know, I know. I’m just… it’s not like she’s just a girl that I’ve met a couple of times, you know? I’ve had time to get attached and I… like her. And I think she likes me. But it’s a hopeless situation. What if this is it? What if she’s _it_ for me?’

He was sat at the kitchen table, leaning his head against one hand. Lisa placed a steaming mug of peppermint tea in front of him before ruffling his hair with her fingertips. She hated seeing her son, normally so positive and energetic, so despondent. 

'Oh sweetheart, I don’t know what to tell you. What did she say when you told her what Josh said?’

'Just 'oh I see,’ and then I left pretty much. Didn’t seem much point in drawing it out any more.’

'Chris, baby, did you even ask her what she wanted? I know Josh gave you the advice he thought best from his perspective but it seems like between the two of you, you’d decided the fate of that poor girl before she’d even had a chance to think about she wanted,’ the reality of his conversation with you dawned on Lisa suddenly. Her eldest son always _was_ convinced he knew what was best for others, even if it made him feel miserable. He was self-sacrificing to a fault but needed to understand that it wasn’t always his call.

'Well… I… she didn’t counter with anything. And when I said we could still text and talk and stuff she told me not to insult her like that.’

Lisa could hardly believe her ears, 'Chris! She’s a grown woman! Of course she doesn’t want to keep up some teenager-like phone relationship. And you wouldn’t want that either so why would you even-’

'I know, it was dumb!’ Chris cut her off with his own irritation at himself and brought his other hand up to cradle his head between his palms, breathing in the steam from his tea on the table and hoping it would help soothe him, 'I just - I was desperate.’

His mom sighed, pulling out the chair next to him and sitting down, rubbing one hand comfortingly across his back.

'Listen, I know the press was bad but it was one time. You know as well as I do that the longer a relationship goes on, the more they just have to accept that you’re in it for the right reasons. It means you have to both be strong and probably take some knocks at the beginning, but if she’s worth it, and if she thinks you’re worth it, and there’s a real possibility you could make this work in the long term, shouldn’t you give it a chance?’

'She’s only just starting out though, mom. Those knocks at the beginning, her career might never recover from them.’

'Then that’s a risk for her to take, not a decision you get to make for her. I know I’m biased, but I have a hard time believing that anyone would think my baby boy isn’t worth taking a chance on,’ Lisa playfully pinched his cheek and a half smile tugged at Chris’ lips.

'Mooommmm,’ Chris whined bashfully.

'You’re never too old to have some sappy comments from your mother. Now drink your tea, get your head straight and think about what you’re going to say when you see her next,’ Lisa rose from her seat with a final pat on his back to busy herself with the chores that needed doing. 

'Yes ma'am,’ he replied with a grin.

'That’s what I like to hear,’ Lisa nodded definitively, 'When are you going back to LA?’

'Well, the auditions for the movie are being held on Thursday, the scripts have been out for a week with the prospectives now, so I’ve got a flight Wednesday afternoon.’

'So I get you for another three days then,’ Lisa did the math, 'Are you going to talk to her before then?’

Chris shook his head, 'No, I think I want to talk face to face. When I go back.’

'Good choice. Just own up to how you feel and let her come to her own decision. You’ve got nothing to lose, given the current state of things.’

'I know, thanks mom,’ Chris could always count on his mother to help him straighten his thoughts out. 

That gave him three days to prepare for both the auditions he was holding for the wife character in his latest film project and for seeing you again. His mom was right, if you turned around and told him to leave you alone forever, he’d be no worse off than he was now. He’d call you Thursday evening, after the auditions were over, and arrange something for the Friday or the Saturday. 

And then, he’d lay it all on the line.


	7. Audition

Auditions were going well, as well as they ever do. There were, of course, a significant number of auditionees that clearly weren’t right for the role but there were also some definite contenders and overall, Chris was feeling fairly positive. 

The character of the wife was a tricky one: she was so complex and it would be easy to have her tarnished with the ‘bored housewife’ brush, but Chris wanted the actress that played her to bring a softness to her and for her potential affair story line to be empathised with rather than pitied. 

‘Thanks so much, we’ll be in touch,’ Chris’ casting director, Ted, smiled at the last actress who had auditioned, who nodded with a hopeful expression and shook their hands before leaving. 

‘She was good,’ Ted turned to Chris. 

‘Yeah, she was. Callback pile?’

‘Agreed. So who have we got next?’

Chris moved the profile sheet from the previous actress as he picked up his glass for a sip of his water. He checked the one underneath to see who the next actress was and almost choked on his drink.

He barely had time to compose himself before you were shown into the room and then there you were in front of him, smiling, shaking hands and introducing yourself to Ted, who did the usual 'and I guess you know Chris…’ but he barely even noticed. You were a picture of professionalism and as you turned to take your place where you wanted to start the scene, Ted turned to Chris slightly with an eyebrow raised in question and Chris could do nothing but shrug his shoulders in bewilderment. 

***

You knew you’d floored him and almost felt a tiny bit sorry for him as you watched Chris flounder in his seat. He was struggling to string a sentence together and you couldn’t help the smile that momentarily passed over your lips when you turned your back to take your spot. 

You needed to change his mind about you. Yes, you did value your professionalism and your standing within the industry, but he needed to realise that you weren’t as meek and mild as he seemed to think. You were careful but you weren’t adverse to taking risks. And yes, he was a risk, being _with_ him was a risk, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to take it. Being careful was only good if it wasn’t at the expense of your happiness. 

So here you were, about to give the audition of your life, and it wasn’t even necessarily for the part.

***

Chris saw you transform before his very eyes. He knew you could do sentimental and he knew you could do action and drama, but what he saw from your audition was a whole new facet of your repertoire that he had never seen before. Real, deep, raw human emotion. You played the character with such a sense of hopeless disillusionment that it was clear exactly why she had gone down the path she had. You played her with a weariness of life experience that Chris really didn’t expect, as though she was far older than her age or appearance would give away. 

He was mesmerised, like he’d discovered a whole new side to you he’d never known existed. There was nothing careful about your performance and there was no holding back. And he loved it. 

Once you were done, Ted cast a glance at Chris with a surprised expression. Clearly he’d seen the same things Chris had in the audition piece and he was about to give you the usual, 'Thanks, we’ll be in touch’ line so you could leave and they could discuss your performance in private but Chris spoke before Ted got a chance.

'Do you mind… do you mind if I just have a word outside?’ Chris spoke tentatively to you, ignoring the confusion flitting across his co-worker’s face.

You nodded, face neutral, trying to keep your composure and you followed him when he left the room through a side door, not the main one you’d come through when it was time for your audition slot. 

The adjoining room was very much like the one you had just come from, except it was slightly darker with no lights on. Chris closed the door softly behind you and stood with his hands in his pockets looking… well, quite nervous actually.

'Do you want this part?’ was his first question. 

You paused for a moment, not expecting that to be the first thing he asked before stumbling over your words, 'I… well… it’s a great part Chris. The story is amazing. I cried when I read it. You’re going to do an incredible job with it.’

'Is that all you’re here for? I mean… I don’t want to sound… arrogant or anything but-’ Chris shrugged, his sentence trailing off before he took a deep breath and started again, 'I was going to call. Tonight. And ask you…’

He took a step forward just as you took a step towards him. There was less than a foot between you now.

'I didn’t let you decide for yourself,’ he settled on finally.

'I know,’ your voice was quiet but grew stronger and firmer as you explained yourself, 'You didn’t. And I came here today to show you… to show that I can take risks, that I’m not scared, that I value my career and my privacy and my professional standing, but not more than I value the really important things in life.’

'Like?’ Chris never took his gaze from you for a second.

'Like people, Chris. Relationships. _You._ You are important to me.’

You could see his mouth twitch slightly but he stayed quiet, sensing you had more you wanted to say. 

'And I know that I can’t have this part - it would just be a step too far given the press from a few weeks ago and I’d never shake the nepotism rumours. But I needed to show you… I am capable of choosing for myself and you can’t undermine my choice because of some misguided attempt at protecting me. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself, and in the event I can’t do it… well, I pay a team of people to handle it for me. _You’re_ not one of those people so you don’t get to decide on my behalf,’ you finished with a grin.

He properly smiled at that, letting it break across his face as he took another step closer, hands still in his pockets but only a breath’s space between your bodies. Your heart was hammering, the blood rushing in your ears, the adrenaline pumping at being finally able to say what you wanted to say: the culmination of weeks, months even, of holding back and bottling up. 

'And what have you decided, sweetheart? What have you chosen?’ His voice was low and felt like a caress, but he wasn’t even touching you. 

’ _You_ , you dumb ass, I’ve chosen you,’ and you reached up to hold his jaw between your palms and guide his mouth down to yours. 

It was what you had wanted for so long, whether you had admitted it to yourself or not, that once you started you couldn’t stop. His arms held you tightly to his body, wrapped around your waist with his palms against the straight of your back, and your hands roamed, apparently not able to explore him fast enough. They were in his hair, smoothing down his shoulders, gripping his upper arms, back up to run your thumbs across his collar bones. And all the while, you kissed like your lives depended on it. Your stomach was somersaulting with the sheer pleasure of actually, _finally_ kissing him, having his mouth on yours, and the excitement that _you_ did it. You took exactly what you wanted and didn’t second guess it. 

When you eventually started to pull back, Chris peppering kisses against your mouth and jaw, you had to take a minute to catch your breath, so on edge you had been all day. 

'I don’t want to stop kissing you,’ Chris breathed against the skin of your neck.

'I know,’ was all you were able to say in agreement.

'But I’m at work.’

'I know,’ you said again breathily, your arms winding around his neck. 

Chris chuckled, 'But we can go out tonight? On a date? And tomorrow, and Saturday, and Sunday and every day after that, if you want to.’

'Yes, to it all,’ you said definitively, kissing him again. 

'I’m going to pick you up at your place at eight thirty, that okay?’ He pulled a hand up to brush your hair behind one of your ears and you leaned into his touch as you nodded in acceptance. 

'I just… I’ve wanted to do that for so long, I don’t really know what to do with myself now,’ you grinned, looking up into his eyes.

'I know how you feel,’ he smiled back. 'Are you sure about this? I know some places we can go that are big on privacy but-’

'Don’t worry about it, Chris. People are going to say what they say. They’ll get bored eventually. You better get back to work. Ted is going to be wondering if he needs to find another director.’

Chris nodded but made no effort to move, his hands still cupping your jaw like he was holding a fragile artefact, like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him. You glowed under his gaze.

'I’m glad you came here today,’ he said, his awe threading through his voice, 'Your audition was fucking awesome and I’m not just saying that because I’m biased.’

You laughed and raised an eyebrow in wry humour, 'You are a little though. Remember what you said about me in the interview after we met on the red carpet the first time?’

'Don’t fucking remind me,’ he grinned, resting his forehead against yours. 

'I remember one part particularly well,’ you whispered teasingly, 'Something about showing me how good _not_ sleeping can be?’

You pulled out of his arms before he could respond and sauntered towards the door, turning back at the last second, palm resting on the door handle, 'I hope you meant that, Evans.’

And you left him there, jaw dropped open in disbelief, wondering how he’d managed to actually to win you over at all. 

***

'Everything okay? She came back through, said it was nice to meet me and left,’ the casting agent gestured towards the main door that lead to the corridor.

Chris sat back down in his seat nonchalantly and picked up your profile document, looking at it for a moment before placing it on the 'no’ pile.

'Yup, everything’s fine,’ Chris replied quickly, 'She just doesn’t want to work on a project with someone she’s dating.’

Ted looked up in startled surprise, 'Oh, that’s a shame. Is she involved with someone on our cast or crew?’

Chris looked down at his hands, hardly able to process the fucking awesome ten minutes he’d just had before throwing Ted the biggest shit-eating grin he’d ever given anyone in his life, 'Yeah. Me.’


	8. The First Date

***

‘Uhhh Chris, where are we?’ Confusion threaded through your voice as Chris pulled his car into park on a gravel driveway.

This didn’t look like any restaurant you’d ever seen. In fact, you were 99.9% sure this was his house. He’d picked you up from home about half an hour ago and had been extremely secretive about where you were going.

‘Look, I know what you what said about letting people say what they say but I’ve been thinking about it, and that’s just not me. The position I put you in at Disney… I just got so swept up in being there, with you, and I don’t ever want to be the cause of something like that again. So, I figure there’ll be plenty of time for getting out and about in public, but I think we’ve reached plenty of milestones already and I just want to spend an evening alone, with you, just being ourselves and not looking over our shoulders. Let’s do this right,’ he’d looked at you steadily from the driver’s seat and you knew he was right. 

You’d done a lot of proving yourself and making a point today and it needed to stop somewhere. If you wanted to make a real go of this, it had to just be about the two of you and not about metaphorically flipping the bird to the media. 

The only issue causing a little butterfly in your belly was that this was his house. He was letting you into his fortress, his haven, and this was a much more intimate setting than anything you could have imagined. Were you ready for that? All the bravado you’d had on Thursday seemed to have left you high and dry and the nerves and insecurities were back. 

But you straightened your back and nodded, reminding yourself that Chris had been so careful with you up to now, like you were made from glass, and the likelihood of him trying to push you further than you were ready for, emotionally or physically, was extremely low, like zero. 

A brief flicker of relief crossed his features and he tilted his head towards the house, ‘Shall we go in?’

'Yeah. Yes. Let’s go.’

You let yourself out of the car on unsteady legs, trying to breathe yourself to a calm state, and he was by your side, pushing the passenger door shut and taking your hand in his, leading the way across the drive and manoeuvring his keys in his other to, you assumed, get hold of his front door key. 

You’d noticed when you opened your front door to him earlier that he’d been dressed very handsomely indeed, and now you realised just how cute that was: he’d dressed to the nines in a sharp suit for you, even though he’d known all along he’d be eating in his own house. 

'Brace yourself,’ he warned jokingly as his turned the key, 'Dodger will be excited to see you.’

He couldn’t have been more correct. Ten minutes after you stepped over the threshold, your faithful little black dress was covered in Dodger hair, but you didn’t care. You laughed at his enthusiastic greeting, crouching down on your heels to let him jump at you, nudging his wet nose against your face. Chris apologised and pulled him off but you assured him you didn’t mind. 

In fact, you felt completely the opposite. Dodger’s presence alone reminded you that this was just Chris and you were just you. Just two normal people who happened to live in extraordinary circumstances, but those circumstances weren’t your whole existence. You could be yourself with Chris, you didn’t need to be perfect, and that helped ease your anxiety massively. 

Chris distracted Dodger with a ball and when you stood back up, you were so very close, only millimetres between you and the last of your nervous energy dissolved into something much more warm, spreading through you, the anticipation. 

'Hi,’ he said with an easy grin.

'Hi,’ you whispered, looking up into his face. 

'You really don’t mind that we’re here?’ He asked again, his own insecurity taking over.

'I think you know me better than I know myself. We can relax now. Do this properly,’ you told him, repeating his sentiments from earlier. 

'Okay,’ he nodded, 'Do you want the grand tour?’

You nodded, slipping your hand easily into his, 'Lead the way.’

His home was lovely. Very modern and clean, dark and light contrasting everywhere and barely any clutter on surfaces, but he had framed photographs hung on every wall. Family and friends, you guessed, and multiple dogs. An entire history there in photograph form as he lead you through rooms and down hallways. The main living quarters were all on one floor and he had a basement with a gym and what he called the den - the man cave, basically. You blushed a little when he pointed out the bedrooms and he grinned, clearly trying to keep his suggestive comments to himself. He just chuckled instead, turning you around by the shoulders to direct you back the way you had come.

'Come on, let’s get your mind out the gutter and find something to eat,’ he told you.

***

A couple of hours later, you were curled up against the plush cushions of Chris’ garden furniture on the decked veranda that ran the length of the back of his house. There were softly glowing light bulbs threaded along the rafters of the veranda roof, candles of varying sizes flickered and large leafed potted plants dotted around made the large, open space seem warm and cosy. The night was balmy and your heels had been lost a long time ago as you sat with your legs tucked under you, facing Chris on the other side of sofa, both nursing a bottle of beer, having finished a bottle of chilled white wine with dinner, and you remembered the night at Disney where you’d realised just how much you didn’t want your time with him to come to an end.

You’d been impressed by his abilities in the kitchen, judging from the light and flavoursome chicken dish he placed in front of you at his dining table, until he’d let slip that his mom was in town for the weekend and had helped him get everything ready before going to stay with his brother, Scott, on the other side of town. 

His explanation had caught you off guard. Firstly, because he and his mom had cut their precious time together short for you. Secondly, that Lisa had spent her afternoon helping her son prepare for a date with you. Thirdly, that Chris must have talked to her about you. 

Multitudinous questions had whirled through your mind, but all that came out of your mouth when you spoke was, 'She didn’t mind?’

You didn’t know whether you were asking about Lisa being banished to Scott’s, spending her whole afternoon cooking food she wouldn’t eat, Chris spending his evening with you or all three but he just looked at you like you had three heads.

'You kidding me?’ he asked in disbelief, 'She’s thrilled. Like, it’s embarrassing.’

That was… pretty heartwarming actually. You’d enjoyed spending time with Lisa during your week at Disney, and knowing she wasn’t opposed to the idea of you and her son together was reassuring. 

You felt like you hadn’t stopped talking all night, you discussed everything, some of it light and easy, other parts deeper and more challenging, but all of it was personal. The night was getting later, you were warm and a little buzzed and your gaze kept drifting to his mouth as he talked. He hadn’t kissed you so far tonight, save for a chaste kiss on the cheek when he greeted you at your door earlier and your mind wandered to the knee shaking make out session you had shared when you finally decided that you wanted him, regardless of any of the issues surrounding your fame. 

That was a kiss full of longing, a powerful release at the end of a long, long build up. But now you were relaxed, calm, and you wanted slow, lazy, passion. It must have been thirty seconds or more since Chris had stopped talking and you’d just been staring at his mouth. When you flicked your gaze up to his eyes, he was looking at you in question. You leaned forward to place your beer bottle delicately on the wooden table and when you made to move back, he caught your arm in his gentle grip, keeping you close to him. His fingers on his other hand threaded into the hair at the nape of your neck, his palm cupping the hinge of your jaw. 

You were close enough to see the flecks of darker royal blue in his eyes, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. He paused for a moment, drinking you in, leaving you an out if you wanted it, but when he was sure that he was following your cues correctly, he leaned forward, experimentally pressing his lips to yours, keeping your gaze, waiting for your reaction. It started with a simple kiss, testing the waters, and then he went back in with more vigour. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you gave in to the feeling of him running the tip of his tongue carefully over your bottom lip. He was in control this time, and you revelled in it. He changed pressure, angle, whenever he felt like it, keeping you on your toes, and the hand that had been on your arm now smoothed over your throat and collar bone, danced over the ridges of your ribs, drew lazy curls on your hip through the material of your dress. 

'Chris…’ you whispered his name almost involuntarily when he broke away, punctuating with a single final kiss against your jaw. 

'Breathe sweetheart,’ his voice was a caress against your skin, pressing delicate kisses to your neck and under your ear lobe. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you leant into his kisses and you weren’t sure if it was you leaning back or him guiding you, but you were suddenly under him on the sofa, Chris still planting kisses against your throat as you threaded your fingers into his hair. 

One hand wandered from your hip down your thigh as his mouth made his way back to yours and he rolled slightly to one side, hooking his fingers under one knee and pulling your leg over his thigh. He used his new point of access to let his fingers drift up the back of your leg and over the smooth roundness of your ass, under your dress but over the lacy underwear you’d chosen. 

You carried on kissing him, keeping his head close to yours, trying to ignore that niggling feeling that was telling you this was too fast. This dress in a restaurant for dinner and a drive home would have been absolutely fine, but in this far more intimate setting the cami shoulder straps, relaxed, floaty fit skimming over your body and light, silky material were doing nothing to provide a barrier between you. You may as well have been wearing lingerie and nothing else. 

But you also didn’t want him to stop. The feeling of his hands on your body was warming you through and his touch was so gentle, so undemanding. You could feel the material of his wool suit trousers against the inside of your thigh where he’d hooked it over him and his mouth was slow and unhurried on yours. He was being deliberately careful, you realised, and if you asked him to stop he would. 

You pulled your mouth away minutely, just enough to allow you to speak. 

'Chris,’ you addressed with a knowing smile, 'I know where this scene ends.’

His brows knitted in confusion, obviously trying to get his brain to catch up after a mammoth make out session, 'What do you mean?’

'The dinner at home, the wine, the soft music, the candles, the deep conversation… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.’

A slow smile spread across his mouth and he brought a hand to your head to tuck your hair behind your face, eyes roaming your face for any hint of discomfort.

'Would it be so bad if I were?’ He asked softly, searching for your feelings. 

You hesitated and almost started five different sentences before Chris jumped in. 

'Seduction isn’t about getting you into my bed, or even about getting you naked. I’m trying to seduce you into wanting to be with me. I figure this is _my_ audition,’ he admitted with a shrug. You could see every one of his long, thick eyelashes.

_Oh._

'You’re doing a great job,’ you whispered. You were sure he could feel your heart hammering against your chest, the way you were pressed together. 

'Yeah?’ he asked, only a hint of smug triumph in his voice before lowering it to little more than a hush, 'Why don’t you stay the night with me?’

You tensed immediately but you didn’t even get chance to reply. 

'Not like that,’ he explained, 'I just… it’s getting late but I’m so not ready to say goodbye yet. You can take the guest room if you like.’

'Just like at Disney,’ you stated rather than asked.

'Exactly.’

You laid a palm against his cheek and he turned his head slightly to kiss it.

'Thank you,’ you said seriously.

'For what?’

'For always knowing exactly what I need.’

***

Hours later, it was the middle of the night and you were feeling really stupid. You were staring into the dark of Chris’ guest bedroom, wearing one of his tees as a nightshirt and having brushed your teeth with spare one from the last time Chris opened a pack. 

You had been right earlier, it was exactly like Disney. Except that now, everything had changed. You weren’t trying to stamp down your feelings anymore, you weren’t trying to be just friends. What were you even doing in here?

You threw the sheets back in irritation and stood up, padding out into the hall and softly pushing down the handle of Chris’ door. You could see him in the shaft of light from the hallway and his eyes opened to look at you. He simply threw back his sheet in invitation and you squeezed through the gap in the door, closed it behind you and crossed the room to climb into his waiting arms.

'I felt dumb,’ you explained as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you into his body. 

'You shouldn’t feel dumb about anything you’ve decided is right for you,’ he told you, his voice gravelly from his dozing. You tucked your head under his chin and he planted kisses against your hair. 

'Sleeping alone in your guest room when I could be here with you is definitely not right for me.’

'I agree wholeheartedly. Now, I’ve let you in but don’t try getting fresh with me. I have my virtue to think about,’ Chris joked, sarcastic humour laced through every word. 

You laughed into his chest, 'I’ll try and keep my hands to myself.’

***

When your eyes fluttered open the next morning, you were facing away from Chris, but you could feel him, warm against your back, spooning you with his arm slung over your hip. 

You were content, that much you knew. Considering how late you’d actually first attempted to go to sleep, once you had curled up next to Chris, you found yourself drifting off very easily and now you felt extremely well rested. 

You tried to turn over without waking him but he shifted a little as you rolled and readjusted his arm around you, tightening and pulling you closer, mumbling a little and sighing as he dozed. You smiled to yourself, raising a gentle hand to his face, using this time for your own personal exploration, tracing a thumb across his cheek, across his brow bone, following the line where his beard faded into skin. You leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, air-soft, but were surprised when his hands at your back suddenly applied pressure against you and his lips pressed back against yours. He’d been awake the whole time, of course.

'Enjoying yourself there?’ he grinned against your mouth.

'Very much so. Just taking stock.’

'Is that so? And does what you see meet your satisfaction?’

'Hmm… could be worse, I suppose,’ you grinned back.

Chris didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow and began digging his fingers into your sides. You squirmed and flailed under his touch, smacking your hand against his arm and begging him to stop. You tried to roll away but he went with you until you were under him and you had no escape. He eventually showed you mercy and stopped, bringing his hands up to smooth the ruffled strands of your hair from your face. 

'I’d wondered if you were ticklish. I guess I know now.’

'Yeah, just a little,’ you panted, trying to catch your breath after the attack.

'There’s so much more I need to know.’

'Well, we have time,’ your hands absentmindedly traced the skin across his lower back, just above his soft jersey shorts. 

'Yep,’ he popped the 'p’ excitedly, 'Tons of it.’

You were both quiet for a moment, just looking at each other, enjoying the moment, knowing there was a future of possibility ahead of you. 

But then your stomach grumbled under Chris’ weight and you raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

'Think we could manage breakfast between us or do we have to get your mom around?’

He rose up on his knees, straddling your legs and hauling you up to sitting with him. 

'I can probably rustle something up for us. But first, I just want to do this…’

He brought his hands up to cup your face between them, and leaned in, pressing a slow, sensual kiss to your mouth, claiming you, making you erase anyone else that might have ever kissed you from your memory. A moan reverberated through your chest as he held you fast and just as quickly as he’d been there, he was gone, pulling back and leaving you hanging, lips throbbing and parted and eyes closed.

'You can open your eyes now, sweetheart,’ he spoke lowly and you could hear the amusement in his voice.

He was already climbing off you and the bed when you opened your eyes, and he held his hand out.

'Ready?’ He asked.

You were dumbfounded, 'W-what?’

'Breakfast? You were hungry a second ago,’ he was too smug for his own good.

'Oh… yeah,’ your brain caught up, 'Let’s go see what an excellent selection of kids’ breakfast cereals you have.’


	9. The Visitor

Chris delivered you back to your apartment later that day and your farewell was drawn out to say the least. He walked you up, pressed you against your door to kiss you senseless before you could even get the key in the lock. When you did eventually stop long enough to unlock your door, your back was against the door frame again.

‘I can’t believe I just get to kiss you. It’s like I can’t stop now I’ve started,’ he smiled against your mouth, running delicate fingers along your temple and smoothing your hair back from your face. 

‘Well, don’t then,’ you whispered back.

It was another twenty minutes before Chris actually left, and you slumped against your closed door in giggly giddiness, fingers pressed to your lips, still tingling and swollen from his attentions. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

_Tomorrow? It’s about the longest I can wait xxx_

You almost hated the girlishness with which you responded but you quickly typed out a reply, purposefully playing with him.

_If I must. I’ll try and make room for you between washing my hair and doing the laundry xxx_

***

The next few weeks were a blur of sneaking around. It had started with you both agreeing that there was no need to draw attention to yourselves but then you realised that the covert operations were actually quite exciting after that first kiss in the darkness of the office next to Chris’ audition room. 

It obviously didn’t make sense to ‘out’ yourselves to the media, but you were keeping it from your agents and PR too, given that you were going expressly against the advice of both camps. But other than that, it was just a game really, and it didn’t feel like there was any real danger around, now you’d decided you didn’t care either way. 

So it was a Wednesday evening and you were in Chris’ lap on your sofa. You’d been making out lazily for a good while, the tv program you’d had on in the background now insignificant and long forgotten. 

These make out sessions had been getting hotter and heavier as the weeks went by and you were finding it more and more difficult to remember what your reservations actually were, and tonight was no exception. Somehow, Chris’ shirt had been discarded and his hands were roaming shamelessly under the comfortable but cute track shorts you’d had on for your cosy night in. When you could feel the warmth from his skin and the ripple of his muscles as he shifted beneath you, you could just feel the progression this was taking and, you realised, it felt totally natural. 

You pulled back just enough to speak, keeping determined eye contact with him, adamant you were going to be bold and take what you wanted.

‘Stay with me. Tonight.’ 

He blinked a little, a question forming on his lips. Maybe he was going to ask if you were sure and then decided better of it, didn’t want to be appearing to question your judgement. 

‘I’d love to,’ he eventually settled on a response and you sank your head back down to capture his lips again, your delicate dance taking on a new significance under the development you had just introduced, anticipation crackling in the air. 

You eventually scooted back, pulling on his hand, keeping hold of your brave and bold feeling. His eyes followed your movements and allowed himself to pulled upright and then into walking as you led him towards your bedroom, you going backwards so you could keep steady eye contact with him. You pushed on your door with your back, using your weight to lever it open and then you were in the cool darkness of your bedroom, only blue moonlight filtering through the window. It was quieter in here, stiller somehow, and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, hear the rush in your ears.

Chris’ face was half illuminated in the moon’s glow and you could see him grin at you.

‘What?’ You asked softly, smiling back.

‘Just… I had all these vague plans you know? Romantic dinner, wine, candles, soft music… and here you are, getting the jump on me. Surprising me, always.’

You wound your arms around his neck and you felt him slip his palms over and down your ribs, settling just above your hips.

‘Every day with you is romantic, Chris. This is right. I know it,’ You punctuated your words with kisses against his mouth, reaching up on your tip toes to meet him, and he walked you backwards towards your bed. 

You quivered under his touch as he undressed you, as he explored you with his mouth. You felt like he was worshipping your body, lavishing time on you in a way no man ever had before. He might not have been able to prepare the perfect set up, but you didn’t care, nothing mattered when he was working you like that, like an instrument he’d been playing all his life. 

By the time you were curling up against his chest and he was using his fingers to comb your hair back from your forehead, glistening with a light sheen of sweat, you’d been treated to two shattering orgasms and were wrung out, spent. Your eyes were already drifting shut even as he pressed kisses into your hair. 

***

You awoke in a startled panic, shooting straight upright into the light-flooded room and clutching what scrap of sheet you could get hold of to your bare chest. It took you a minute to catch up, to realise why you had woken so violently, before your sleepy gaze focused on the woman stood in your doorway. It was still the middle of the night but there she was, in a blaze of indignation, arms folded against her classic beige trench coat, hair in an immaculate twist at the back of her head, heeled pumps black and shiny tapping against your floorboards in impatience.

Chris stirred beside you, blinking with only one eye at the sudden interruption and clearly confused.

‘Mom?!’ You yelled in disbelief, ‘What are you… get out! Get out now, Jesus!’

It was Chris’ turn to shoot upright, but your mom was already disappearing behind your bedroom door, back out into the living area.

You looked wildly at Chris, completely mortified. 

‘That’s your… that’s your mother?!’ He double checked what he’d just heard.

‘Sure is. Stay here.’ You replied, your voice high-pitched and strained. You shot from the mattress, scrabbling to find a robe to throw on before flying out into the living room.

She was stood, still, leaning against the island that separated your living area from your kitchen. Her back was to you and it was poker straight, both arms stretched out to either side of her, white fingers gripping the edge, like she was trying to stay calm by letting her frustration flow into the marble worktop. 

‘Mom, what’s going on? Is everything okay? Dad? Everyone?’

Horrible, emergency-like scenarios involving various family members all shot through your mind at once: what other reason could she have for showing up like this?

She seemed to steel herself before responding but turned around slowly to face you when she spoke.

‘Your father is fine, siblings all fine, nieces and nephews all fine. Not that you would know. But that’s beside the point. The only one in this family that doesn’t seem to be fine is you!’ 

You were taken aback by her tone but were still confused, ‘Mom, there’s nothing wrong with me…? I’m good, really. What’s this about? You’re worrying me.’

‘I thought those tabloid places just wrote trash. My daughter would never behave the way you were depicted in those reports. Gallivanting about with Hollywood star to further her career,’ she practically spat the word ‘gallivanting’, making it clear what she actually meant when she said that. 

‘My daughter is working hard. I didn’t allow her to give up on her education and fund her way to LA for her to simply sleep her way to the top. No, I raised you with a decent work ethic. You have morals and dignity.’

You could barely believe what you were hearing.

‘So I came to see for myself. Flew out to get the truth, and what do I find? You playing hussy to some second rate action star!’

You weren’t awake enough for this, you thought as you blinked, speechless. You had to still be asleep. That was it, surely? It was all just a bad nightmare. You’d laugh about this with Chris in the morning. 

‘I don’t… understand. Mom, I’ve not seen you in… months, and you just show up here-’

‘We had an agreement. Your father and I would fund this venture of yours into acting as long as you conducted yourself with-‘

You’d had it, ‘Conducted myself! Mom, are you listening to yourself. Regardless of anything you might have read, everything you apparently know is pure assumption and speculation. Aside from which, I’m a grown woman! You and Dad haven’t funded me in a long time and I certainly don’t need you to hold money over my head in some sort of threat.’

‘Are you forgetting yourself? Are you forgetting everything we did for you, everything we sacrificed so you could pursue this alleged career of yours. I’m not denying that you’ve kept your public persona fairly clean up to now but clearly you’ve decided to throw all that away. How could you let your head be so easily turned? Are you really still that naive? What do you think will happen in a few months, weeks even, when he’s bored and goes back to his usual business, reputation intact, and yours is in tatters?’ The way she narrowed her eyes told you she was out to hurt. It was obvious she felt let down by her perception of your behaviour and the way it had been reported, but that didn’t give her any right to speak to you the way she was currently.

You opened your mouth, about to tell her so when you heard a deep voice from behind you. Chris sounded different to how you’d heard him before: he spoke lowly and firmly and, you thought, with a commanding edge.

‘Now, I’m sure you didn’t mean to come here in the middle of the night after not seeing your daughter for months, just to insult her, disrespect her and be completely unnecessarily rude to her. Have you got somewhere to stay?’

The words you were going to say stuck in your throat. How you weren’t crying right now, you had no idea. This night was just getting more and more surreal. But Chris was real, as you gazed at him in adoration. Your knight in shining armour, standing up for you against your mom. 

Your mom, on the other hand, was perplexed. You weren’t sure when the last time someone would have spoken to her like that - it could well have been never. She held a hand against her collar bones, affronted and shocked. 

‘I really don’t think-‘

‘No.’ He cut her off with a single hand held up. ‘I asked, do you have somewhere to stay?’

She gave a curt nod.

‘Then I suggest you go there. And when you are ready to apologise, perhaps you could pay your daughter the courtesy of calling ahead and arranging a time and place to talk with her, civilly and with the same dignity and respect you raised her with and she clearly possesses.’ 

Your mom was silent, her lips parting and closing as sentences began and died on her lips. She and Chris appeared to be in some sort of silent stand off, with her only darting her glance to you momentarily to see if you would interject, but you simply crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, creating a united front with Chris and challenging her, daring her, to continue. 

She eventually picked up her purse and stalked from your apartment in silence and as soon as the lock clicked shut behind her, you visibly relaxed, the tension that had been propping up your shoulders and keeping your spine straight ebbing away. You brought your fingertips to your lips, feeling the shock setting in. Before the first sob left you, Chris’ warm arms were around you, tucking you into his chest. 

‘So that’s your mom, huh?’ He was soft and gentle, in complete contrast to his demeanour only minutes ago. 

You nodded against his chest.

‘She seems… interesting,’ he spoke sardonically, trying to alleviate your shock. 

‘I’ve never heard her speak like that before. She’s so disappointed in me,’ the weight of her words settled over you, doubt starting to creep in. ‘She’s never been totally on board with my career. She thought she’d have to fund me for a few months, it wouldn’t work out and I’d be back in my old bedroom, trying to figure out a new plan. But she’s never been so… hard or unfeeling towards me.’

‘Hey, listen to me,’ he tucked a finger under your chin and guided your face up to meet his gaze, ‘Nothing, and I mean nothing, she said was true. You are, without a doubt, one of the most conscientious, intelligent and elegant women I have ever known. You do everything with grace and dignity and I’m sorry that being connected to me has called that into question, but your mom should know better, quite frankly.’ 

‘I’m more annoyed that she’s totally ruined this perfect, amazing night,’ you sighed, remembering the perfect bliss you had floated on mere hours ago.

‘She’s not ruined anything. What we have is totally separate, okay? Come on, let’s go back to bed and I’ll do my best to make you forget all about her. Let’s just be together tonight and we’ll worry about her and figure out a plan tomorrow,’ he squeezed you tighter when he felt you press into him harder, ‘Sound good?’ 

‘Yeah. Yes. Let’s go back to bed.’ 

You wanted to lose yourself in him. This relationship was going to be a battle out there in the wide world, you knew, and your mom was just the tip of the iceberg. But right now, you were holed up together with hopefully no more unwanted visitors and, for tonight, you could just enjoy each other before arming yourselves against it all tomorrow.


End file.
